The Dark Side That Is Me
by Suma Akila
Summary: In which conspirators misjudge their would be 'sacrifice,' and instead unleash a veritable force upon them all. Aizen/Ichi. AU. DO not OWN Bleach. Duh.
1. Who's Deceiving Who?

**In which conspirators misjudge their would be 'sacrifice,' and instead unleash a veritable force upon them all. Aizen/Ichi. AU. **

**An idea that relentlessly invades my dreams and therefore cannot be ignored. **

The Dark Side That Is Me

Who's deceiving Who?

Rukia glared.

Renji glared.

The orange haired seventeen year old Ichigo, draped over the length of a tattered up dark blue chair looted from god knows where, grinned like a Cheshire cat having been offered a tasty little treat.

Renji flicked his eyes towards Rukia, his scowl deep and his voice a barely contained gruff whisper.

"We're wasting our time here, Rukia. We can just deal with this on our own."

Renji had a valid point, from his perspective, she knew. But she couldn't back away now that she was standing before him. The man was well known for his recklessness and thorough disregard for self-preservation, which is why she was convinced that they needed him.

There was no other option.

"Stop, Renji." Even though the male was higher ranking than her, he listened, making a 'Che' sound as he turned and moved away from them. He stopped after a few irritated steps, eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest, clad in a black buttoned up top, the color of his pants and shoes matching.

She looked side long at him, tracing his single long braid of fiery red hair. _To match his temper, _she though silently to herself before turning back to Him.

"Pleasant fellow, isn't he?" The words were low, smooth as he mocked her partner. She really wanted to throttle him just for that but she resisted with a deep breath.

"So? Will you help?"

That grin turned a bit mocking as well, his orange yellow hair sliding to fall over his caramel brown eyes as he sat up, stretching like a lion waking from a nap.

"Help implies doing something for nothing."

He stood slowly, unfurling in a way that made her feel as if she were his prey. She parted her lips to speak, but was interrupted by Renji's fury.

"See Rukia! He's a good for nothing outsider. Trash. Let's just go."

Rukia watched warily as the man before her allows his grin to fade into a small, barely there tilt of his lips, chin tilted a bit up and to the side as he shot a sidelong look to Renji, eyebrows somewhat raised.

Before she was able to speak up his lips parted to let out a sound she could only describe as a purred laugh, his eyes finding her once more.

"Do you find him as feisty in bed?"

The question was delivered in a nonchalant way, more curious than malicious.

Rukia sputtered and blushed.

Renji cursed and unsheathed his sword angrily.

Ichigo bent over to retrieve a black cloak trimmed in red and pulled it over his cotton pullover red shirt, his greyish black pants brushed off with a careless hand before he adjusted the loose waistline.

"I suppose we should get going. It would be a shame to be late to your own party."

He looked at them both with laughing eyes and Rukia was the first to break, turning on her heel to stamp past Renji, who waited for Ichigo to pass before pulling up the rear.

"Try not to drool as you stare back there, Lieutenant."

Ichigo's lazy voice drawled out and Renji fumed, gritting his teeth as he sheathed his sword and clenched his fist.

Ichigo slid a pair of blue tinted glasses from his pocket, slipping them on his face as they exited the small shack, taking in a deep breath of fresh air with another animalistic smile.

No one asked how he knew that Renji was a Lieutenant.

Ichigo Kurosaki was, afterall, Ichigo Kurosaki.

They watched him with barely veiled horror as he ate, wolfing down everything within reach as if he hadn't eaten in days which was more than likely the truth.

"He's disgusting." Rukia allowed her gaze to slide to the one who had spoken. Ishida was his name, and he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, sneering as his black hair fell to frame his face. For once, Rukia does not try to defend the orange haired male, does not even want to.

The insult seemed to fall on deaf ears, or perhaps said male could not hear over the chomping of his own teeth, crunching happily away at anything and everything, regardless of what might taste good and what might not. A particularly juicy bite into the leg of a pheasant made Rukia cringe and close her eyes, missing the way that Renji placed his fingers against the bridge of his nose and pushed.

He was like a barely trained animal that they had drug in from the wild. Or, perhaps even worse. She questioned her decision at that moment, wondering if perhaps they would have been better off not inviting this oaf into their territory.

But they had needed an answer, needed a solution, needed someone to step in from the outside so that when it happened it didn't so much look like an act of treason, an act of betrayal, rather than the temperamental rise in a simple commoner tired of the way things were being ran.

They had needed a lamb, to sacrifice and appease the general populace, whose blood would flow and sate the appetite for revenge.

Who better, who more suited, than the Rogue who plagued the minds of those in power? Who better than the one who caused mischief, no matter how menial? Who better than to serve up Kurosaki Ichigo, whom most believed a savior, and yet secretly feared from the shadows?

It couldn't be a better plan that Yamamota had come up with, despite his own dalliances in the less than tasteful markets, those that included the very man that they were about to place on a platter and serve up to the hungry wolves that had been so very loyal to their current King.

But that was a minor detail, something that most who were involved with the planning of the Coup could simply brush away, ignore like the annoying buzz of a rather persistent fly. It would do no good to think about such things, not when they were so convinced that their current King was evil, that he needed cleansing, needed purging. The world would be better without him and his blood soaked throne.

It wasn't his to begin with. It belonged to the real Royals, the ones who had been pushed away, been nearly castrated during the war sixteen years ago that most people had chosen to forget but still lingered in the minds of the ones who had fought, who had bled, who had lost.

And all because of the underhanded techniques, ones that had taken their footing from beneath them. Betrayals that ran so very deep that blood had turned against blood, undergoing the worst treachery that the Kingdom had ever endured, splitting the entire land in half when it came to where loyalties lie.

A rather abrasive burp gurgled through the room and the sound of a chair sliding against the stone floor brought each person out of their silent thoughts, attention rooted fully on the barbarian who they couldn't help but need as he pressed his feet against the legs of the large wooden table, tipping himself backwards, balancing on only two legs of the thing that he sat upon.

He rubbed his stomach in a contented way and again Rukia heard a disgusted noise come from Ishida though nothing more from the male, and she noted that Renji still held his eyes tightly shut, as if in pain, whereas the other occupant of the table stayed stone silent, eyes leveled on the wall across from the table as if he could ignore the rude, ill-mannered heathen that graced their presence.

Hitsugaya was good at that sort of thing, despite his age, and his relatively overall powerless appearance. Though Rukia, having watched the younger male for far longer than any other at the table had no misconceptions, could see the younger genius' mind turning and clinking like the gears in an ancient clock that had seen too much and traveled too far.

"So then, down to business." The teens voice mocked out happily, caramel brown eyes all sly twinkles and lips cured almost demurely. So many different facades displayed all at once, designed to catch them off guard, to throw them off kilter. And Rukia could tell that it somewhat worked, at least with Renji who snapped his eyes open in disbelief, and Ishida who sat back only to cross his arms over his chest.

"I know what you want me to do. Relatively easy enough, despite the person." He trailed off, eyes rolling to the ceiling as if it held the most interesting view, his facial expressions hidden from them with the simple move. The silence stretched out in the room, broken only by a deep chuckle as the orange haired teen dropped his gaze back down, leveling Rukia with an indescribable stare that she would rather have directed somewhere else, even before his words flowed out so easily from poisoned lips that she couldn't help but watch.

"But, again. There is the small little issue of payment. It is, after all, a very hefty task to place upon someone without some sort of compensation." Yamamota had been expecting this sort of thing to crop up eventually and Rukia is really surprised that it has taken even this long for Ichigo Kurosaki to actually press into them about it, though she chose to ignore the slight begrudging respect she felt for him and his self-restraint.

She exhaled, deeply, reaching somewhere beneath the table that he could not see, pulling a heavy drawstring leather pouch for him to see, tossing it idly into the air a few inches before catching it again. She watched as his hungry caramel eyes followed the movement, and she wanted to lash out at him for his greed, berate him for his willingness to work just for treasures so meaningless, but she refrained, if only because their mission meant more than the enlightenment of one bastard's soul.

He caught the pouch easily as she tossed it at his head, more amused that put out by the obvious aim, and tests the weight of the bag before he slowly pulled the string loose, peering inside. She knew that he would not complain because for all of Yamamoto's stiffness, he was not cheap, the red rubies and untarnished lumps of diamonds within were testament to his belief that the man before them could be bought.

With his eyes shining he pulled the string tight again, tucking it somewhere on his person, gleaming gaze meeting Rukia's from across the table and she knew immediately that the old man had been correct in his assessment of the younger man, had been knowledgeable at how receptive the male would be after a handful of jewels.

"That is only half, you get the rest when you have completed your task." She said it monotone, lips thinned into a dispassionate line. Task. It all made it sound so domestic, so calm. As if they weren't really asking the young man before them to do the unthinkable. But even then, Rukia had to hide her smug tone, because for the orange haired male before them, he would never see the other half because he would be bent over an executioners block as Yamamota stood to the side, the vision of grief over his cousin's untimely death, bearing the heavy weight of the newly placed crown upon his head.

All in due time.

The teen nodded, complacent with his pocket newly filled with gems that were stolen from the very man he was planning on confronting, uninterested in such small things as loyalties and the such. He had learned a long, long time ago to push such frivolous connections from his mind and heart. It only caused hardships in the end, accentuated only by the seeming abandonment of his once former instructor when he had disappeared without a word, leaving a very confused and angry fourteen year old in his wake.

He fingered the edge of the table absently, unconcerned with the other four occupants of the room, as if their presence was nothing to be worried about. In reality, they were not, a little more than the horse crap that he scraped off of his boot before he entered his own dwelling. But they need not know such a thing. Besides, he wasn't completely raised without manners, and found the act of insulting them with such a comparison rather childish in nature.

Though the sudden vanishing act that Urahara.. _Kisuke, _he begrudgingly added in the back of his mind.. had concocted was slightly devastating at the time, Ichigo himself couldn't really bring himself to be too sour about it, because all in all it had taught him a valuable lesson of life that he would never forget.

He couldn't trust anyone.

No matter how close they seemed, no matter how friendly they tried to be with him. He couldn't give in, and never would. Another innocent childhood delusion that he had never been able to experience. Some would call that a shame, he referred to it as a blessing.

His life had never been rosy, so why would he wish for anything less than the absolute and undeniable truth? Even now, in his current situation, he could sense it. He could feel the truth being withheld by the four sitting at the table with him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It's not as if he called them out on their easy lies, or the way that they kept the rest of _after _to themselves.

Ichigo Kurosaki might have been many things, and he even portrayed himself as the village idiot at times, but he was very far from that in truth. His mind worked like that of an old, retired general, constantly ticking off as many conspiracy theories that he could muster, while simultaneously choosing to ignore said conclusions.

He did not have a death wish, but he did not fear it either.

"And so? When do I execute this little job?"

His words were smooth, carefree, jovial to the point that he found all pairs of eyes staring at him in an almost incredulous manner, as if they couldn't understand his glee, his thirst for a real challenge that they had dumped into his unsuspecting lap.

At first it seemed as if no one would answer him and then the quiet one, the one with too blue eyes and shocking white hair and an all too young face to hold such a haunting expression answers, slowly, as if calculating his words and the impact they may have.

"The King's Banquet is in two nights…" There is a pause and the too young male looked to Rukia then back to him with a tilt of his head, "We expect it to be done after."

And he understood, because he had to, that they wanted it to be after a happy gathering, after a celebration, so that the people would rebel and flare and be begging for retribution for their King's death, for his murderer to be skinned and beheaded and staked before the gates of the town as a warning to all.

But Ichigo Kurosaki did not mind.

Such things, such challenges, were simply in his blood, little did he know.

…

**Another one that creeped up on me and refused to let go until I wrote it down and posted it here. Sorry for the delay in my other stories, mostly the ones concerning Naruto and Sasuke, but my fascination with Ichi/Aizen pairings has just become too great! Hope you enjoy!**


	2. Behind The Red Curtain

**Note: (that I should have mentioned in the first chapter but failed to do so go figure)..**

**This is in a world that I myself have created. It's somewhat between a cross of modern times, and mideivel times, so there will be multiple things that might make you go, wait a minute, they didn't **_**have **_**slacks back then or, what? They have to wash dishes from water from a well? But, they have a wooden stove? **

**Just go with it. :)**

The Dark Side That Is Me

Behind The Red Curtain

He moved slowly, that smarmy little smirk twisted on his lips. His belly was full, his mind was clear, and his pockets..

_Well._

That smile grew a bit more as he slipped a hand into his pocket, fingering at the heavy pouch within, gleefully aware of the value of the gems within. He could do so much with all of it! The things he could buy, the people that would _beg _for his attention. It would almost be worth gloating about.

But he wouldn't, he couldn't, and he really didn't want to in the end.

He drew up to the little hut in the middle of their little village, eyeballing the way the roof sagged somewhat on the side, something that he would have to fix soon before the thatch gave way and tumbled within.

He didn't bother knocking, he didn't have to. The creak of the wooden door opening and thudding behind him brought an instant happy chirp from somewhere within the house an all too soon he found himself drawing his hand out of his pocket so that he could extend both arms as he knelt, grinning.

The slender little girl that ran into his arms smelled of freshly baked bread and something almost too sweet, but he didn't mind, because it was Yuzu, and he wouldn't have her any other way.

"Ichi-nii!" She buried her face against his chest, giggling, so very happy that he was just there, just alive, _just home. _He felt a pang of guilt for a moment, wondering if perhaps he should take a break after this next little job so that he could spend more quality time with her.

"Welcome home!"

She pulled back a bit and he let her go, that little smarmy smirk instantly melted from his face to form something warmer, something real, as he gazed at her, hand ruffling the top of her head and knocking her short brown hair askew.

Shining light chocolate eyes stared into his own with adoration, and it made him want to hug her again, but he refrained and pulled himself up on his feet though his hand remained perched on the top of her head.

"Something smells delicious."

He said it, because it was true, something thick and inviting hung in the air, tempting him to make his way to the back of the house to see exactly what it was that she was concocting, even though he had just wolfed down so much.

There was always room for Yuzu's cooking. Always.

"Are you eating dinner with us, Ichi?" He looked down at her again, at her pleading eyes, the happy smile, and he couldn't say no, and it made her bounce in joy as she reached up to take his wrist in between her hands and pulled him towards the back, regardless of his shoes.

"I made rice and beef and your favorite veggies, and.." He allowed himself to not pay much attention to the list of food that she had made, because he could smell it, could tell for the most part. He was led into the kitchen, the wood stove crackling merrily as it cooked the food in an iron pot, and he sat down at the small squared wooden table, holding back a yawn.

"What animal drug _you _in?"

The monotone voice that carried the insult did not make him frown, instead, he chuckled and looked up at the doorway where another young girl leaned against the frame, arms crossed over her chest, one foot turned so that the toes tapped against the ground.

"I think Yuzu found another cat." He chuckled, and she gave a small smile, moving into the room and sitting on a chair, backwards, arms looped over the back, chin resting on the top. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

He drug his eyes over her face, noting that her chin length hair was slightly longer now, and those guarded dark blue eyes that were almost black stared back at him with an expression he might have found on his own face at her age.

"Ah, well."

He reached into his pocket, drawing out the little pouch, placing it on the table in between them and watching as her eyes fell to it. A dirty hand reached out, testament to her work outside, and she easily thumbed the thing open, tilting it on its side and taking the fabric between thumb and forefinger, shaking it so that the numerous gems inside came tumbling out over the wooden table top, glittering and winking happily.

Her brows shot up nearly to her hair line and she blinked before she reached out to pick up one of the rubies, turning it over and over in her hand, analyzing it. She looked back up to him, from behind thick lashes.

"And where did you get this?"

The thunk of the gem hitting the table made Yuzu look over her shoulder as she paused in the stirring of the pot, flickering her gaze between them both worriedly, as if she were afraid that they would get in a fight. But they won't, not now.

He hooked his hands behind his head, looking off to the side as he answers her, lightly. "Relax, Karin. I didn't steal them if that's what your asking. It's payment, for a job."

He could feel her eyes literally piercing his soul, daring him to be lying. He looked back at her sideways, that smile on his face that she knew but Yuzu's never seen, and the dark haired female let out a sigh, placing her chin back down on the chair once more.

"What kind of job?"

The tone was careful as she looked at him with that question mark hovering in her eyes, and he let out a slow breath of air, his face melting into seriousness, his elbows pressed against the table as he leaned forward, tunnel visioning her face as he clasped his hands together, resting his chin on top of them.

They stayed that way for a relatively long period of time and then, suddenly, a loud clatter was heard and Ichigo startled, looking down beside his arm where a steaming bowl of rice was sitting, piled high with sweet smelling pork, spicy beef, and vegetables that threatened to fall onto the table.

A grinning Yuzu stood there, with one hand on her hip, a wooden spoon held up beside her head as she ticked her gaze between him and Karin. "Eat up, Ichi!"

He grinned back because he couldn't help it, his hand inching out to slide the bowl of food towards him, chopsticks immediately there for his convenience and even though he was full, even though he felt as if he would burst with the thought of more food, he began to shovel it in, watching Yuzu's face as with every bite her grin split her lips and it made it worth it.

Soon the younger of the two sisters bounced off to fix another heaping bowl for Karin, dropping it in front of her before she flounced off again, humming to herself cheerfully, giving Ichigo a second to take in a deep breath and force himself to swallow.

It was good, as always.

If Karin would stop giving him her all-knowing little stare.

He flicked a glare at her, saying _later _without words, and she seemed to take that, nodding to herself as she began to dig into her own bowl about the time that Yuzu decided to sit down and join them in their little meal.

Later, when he knelt outside, cleaning bowls and pots with water from a basin, he was not surprised to find Karin standing behind him, leaning against the wall as she so loved to do, her eyes burning holes in the back of his head even as he chose to ignore her.

He placed a bowl off to the side, sighed, and began on the pot.

"You're going to do something stupid again, aren't you?"

Her voice cut through the darkness, and he paused, staring at the pot in his hands. He didn't want to answer her, because he knew that it would make her worry, but someone had to know what kind of danger he was putting himself in, because that also meant they would be in danger too.

"Have some clothes packed, and some essentials." He began to scrub again, harder. "And some dried food that will last for a while, at least long enough for you and Yuzu to get out of this area. Preferably on the other side of the ocean." The last part is said lightly, a joke, but gave her enough of a warning.

A pause then, "I see."

No, she wouldn't see, until it happened. He sloshed the pot once more, flicking it to the side to fling off extra water before sitting back on his heels and peering up into the dark sky, stars dotted in clusters.

"Take all of the rocks with you, if I don't come back in two days." He mumbled the words, loud enough for her to hear before he sighed and rocked up onto his feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he turned to finally look at her, to face the brunt of whatever curse or kick she may aim his way.

Instead he found himself wrapped in slender arms around his waist, her dark head pressed against his sternum. He blinked, unsure for a moment, and then he drew his hands back out of his pockets to wrap his arms around her shoulders, a wry smile curled upon his lips.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Lie.

"I know," muffled from her face pressed against him.

Lie.

"I'll be back."

A pause, and then..

"You better. You still owe me a spar."

He chuckled, running fingers through her short black hair, lovingly, exactly like a brother should when comforting a younger sister.

"Come on. Yuzu's probably bored alone."

…

This chapter is for you people who might have thought that I made Ichigo all greedy and such, because although he might be hungry for riches, it's because this version of Ichigo has grown up in poverty, scuffing by just enough to feed his younger sisters whom he has raised on his own.


	3. Open With The Jester

**Meshalax: First off, thank you so very much for your review! I was grinning ear to ear from the start. I am glad that you like it so far, and that it might have the potential of being so good for you! And yes, this version of Ichigo is quite sexy, and will be quite the handful for Aizen, when the pairing actually starts. I know generally how they will meet, though it should be quite obvious to everyone by now exactly who Aizen is, but I haven't worked out the details. They will come as they always do, I suppose (In a nicely liquor induced sleep where I wake up shaking in sweats because of a particularly strangely erotic dream involving my most favorite and sexy duo of yaoi debauches.) His sisters are a bit older than they are in the anime, though I think I must have written something wrong for you to think that he has them living so far away. In fact they live in the kingdom that houses the actual castle of the King, just near the further portion, and he does stay with them. (When I said 'their little village' in the last chapter, it was a matter of perspective) The confusion I'm sure comes from the way he questions not being around, but that comes from the fact that he is actually out doing something to earn money more often than not, and ends up most the time crashing for a few hours in the previous mentioned little hut where he was sprawled out on the blue chair. I understand your desire of them having not been introduced into this piece but you must understand that their presence is rather important, and the reason for that will become incredibly clear throughout the story. I hope you continue to like this fic and (dear god) I've written a full freaking story just answering your review!**

**NOTE: I do not own Bleach. Duh. **

**SECOND NOTE: ….. read. Kthanx.**

The Dark Side That Is Me

Open With The Jester

He moved in that way that belied confidence, his every step full of cocky arrogance. It's a practiced feat, but no one else would be able to tell. To the outside world he positively oozed with regality, even though he is merely a commoner. But in his line of work such a thing is required. Even those who did not know who he is or what he does gave him a good amount of space as he walked into the compound, amused eyes taking in the training grounds as his lips curled into a smarmy smile.

Military people always amused him. They believed themselves far superior to others in power and strength and carried their good for nothing ranks around as if they weighed thousands of pounds. Ichigo had had plenty of encounters with those who fancied themselves military elites. He couldn't say if they were alive when he had left them lying wherever they had fallen.

Eyes turned to examine him with curious hostility. He was obviously not one of them. While most of them wore the black uniform of their organization, he wore something else that made him stick out. Sure, he had conceded and went with black, but that didn't mean he had to follow their rules. He wasn't one of them. He didn't follow their rules because he didn't have to. They came to him asking for help, not the other way around.

His raw silken outfit was as black as coal and relatively baggy to allow a full range of motion. The top, trimmed in a thin line of white, was buttoned together toggle style all the way up to the junction of his collar bone. The small collar stood up under his jaw. But that is where traditional ended. The loose pants were drawn in at the ankles by orange rope that was looped twice and tied off in a knot. Feet were encased in flat soled soft shoes colored orange and black as well. On the left breast is a yellow crescent moon facing the right, on which a strange design arched in orange and curled around to his back before dipping back over his hip in a fluttery wisp. His long sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbow, revealing that the entire outfit was lined on the inside in the same orange.

Murmurs from those around him did not bother him. He could care less what they may be saying, shown by the languid way that he reached up to push his blue tinted glasses further onto the arch of his nose. His wild blonde hair shifted as he peered to the side, noting a rather dour faced male walking his way.

He took stock of him from the corner of his eye, calculating the threat that the male might possess. The man was slight of build but Ichigo is one to never judge others on their body type alone. Some of the hardest people he has ever encountered were smaller than him and he learned lessons like that quickly. With a balled head that reminded Ichigo of a cue ball shiny enough to reflect sunlight, the tall man moved with absolutely no grace and a ton of what Ichigo liked to refer to as 'swagger.'

He was grinning in a somewhat maniacal way, his brows furrowed in a way that slanted his eyes in a sly mockery of a challenge. His eyes held strange red like tattoos at their corners and as he drew even nearer Ichigo noticed the steel grey color of his orbs.

He took a deep breath and everything around him slowed drastically to the point that he could see the fly that fluttered by his face in slow motion and then a fist was aiming for his jaw and he was ducking at the same pace, rocking back on his right foot as he drew his left elbow back and then pistoned it forward, sending his clenched fist up into the bottom of the man's jaw, sending him flailing backwards.

Then everything sped up and Ichigo was suddenly thrust into a battle of three, another male trying to blind side him from the right as soon as he planted the bald one into the ground. He had black hair, that is all that Ichigo could discern before he was reacting with a fluid grace that others probably didn't believe that he had.

He grinned as well, his white teeth flashing as he ducked a well placed kick and countered with his own. His entire body shifted and bended as he lowered his head towards the ground and swiped his right leg out. His heel connected with the neck of the short haired black man and drove him to the ground. Ichigo hopped away in a few steps and lowered himself into a half crouch, knees bent and one arm extended before him with his fingers pointing straight up and the other arm thrown behind him with his palm facing to the back, fingers pointing down.

Despite the unexpected hostility he was still grinning ear to ear and surveying his surroundings. The two men who had attacked him were heaving themselves to their feet, one in front and one behind his position. If anyone were paying particular attention to him then they would seen that he seemed utterly unconcerned with his current predicament.

He moved like water and he knew it. Years and years under his.._Kisuke's_..tutelage would allow nothing less. When others came at him he cut through them like butter even without a weapon. He didn't need it.

He danced. It was the only thing he knew completely. His body twisted and turned and sung the notes of battle as he swiped out at those who deemed it necessary to step forward and challenge him. He didn't know what the purpose of this was, nor did he care. He simply fought, as was his want to do.

He melted into it. He stopped counting after a while, accepting those who came at him as if they were training dummies sent specifically to help him improve. After a particular move in which his entire torso bent and twisted and both his feet left the ground before one heel met the chin of an advisory he noted that he was no longer being attacked and his senses slowly began to ease as he took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings.

He couldn't count the fallen forms around him…there were too many. None were killed, of course. He would never kill someone who didn't deserve to die. He just hadn't known who they were and for them to attack him was highly inappropriate in his mind. Afterall, as he had been thinking earlier, they had asked him for help and not the other way around.

He stood tall…there was no reason for him to slouch. Black clad warriors laid around him in a circle of rings. He had defeated them as they came at him and saw no reason to justify his actions. They were the ones whom had attacked him first after all.

He looked up in time to meet placid dark eyes framed by long black hair. He knew who it was without having to be introduced. Byakuya Kuchiki, the lead of the Kuchiki house and one of the top military advisors. Too whom? Oh he knew, but he didn't relatively care to think about such trivial things. He just knew he was part of the reason that Rukia and Renji had been sent to contract him.

So he smiled.

What else could he do? There was nothing he cared to do other than to present his cocky white grin to the blank faced male before him. And why shouldn't he? He had been invited as a guest only to be tested and tried and he had had enough of trivial matters such as those.

Byakuya's voice traveled like silk across his face and into his ears and yet he held his ever present visage of finesse, choosing instead to reign himself in and become stronger. "Obviously I need to train the troops better if they could not thwart a simple thug." His dark eyes focused on Ichigo who smiled in response and the older man scoffed without trying to start a fight.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, you have proven yourself worthy of our task. Yamada-san requests your presence. Come with me immediately."

Ichigo takes a cask of wine offered to him in a withdrawn gulp, grinning as he gulps it down and licks his lips. Yes, he could tell. This job would be very, very interesting. And he couldn't wait to begin.

I hope you liked this short chapter. I am so sorry it took so long to update. The next one will be a doozy I swear!


	4. Antagonists' Audition

**The Dark Side That Is Me**

**Antagonists' Audition**

Finishing his third cask of wine and staring at the rest of the people around the large table with a bored expression painted on his face, Ichigo's patience was running thin. Normally he would go along with whatever little game they wanted to play, but the earlier trial by combat had stripped him of any melancholy mood he might have had and had left him instead with a stagnant bowl of irritation deep in his stomach.

He was no fool. The 'Yamada-san' posing as the mastermind behind the entire event was little more than a normal faced man who talked too softly, laughed too loudly, and had a nervous twitch in the form of an eye tick whenever he was addressing any of the Captains that roamed about the room.

This was Ichigo's welcoming party. They called it his 'pre-success' celebration but to him it felt more like they were giving him a last supper.

It mattered not to which end they threw such private extravagance in his name and 'honor.' He did not care what it was that they thought they were doing. He even understood the need for secrecy on the one who ran things. He did.

But if he were really expected to do this thing they had asked of him, payment or not, he expected to meet the one whom would benefit. Because he knew that someone would benefit more than anyone else after the deed was done. He had his suspicions, and his gut instinct told him he was right. But again, Ichigo was a curious individual and wanted nothing more than to stand before the man who was plotting to murder the King.

And so….and so.

When he sat his cup down on the table with enough force to make it clack loudly throughout the crowded room silence came almost immediately and Captains and Lieutenants alike turned to blink at him. The most visually perturbed face was that of Renji Abarai. He would have noticed the man regardless of the fact that he had unnaturally bright red hair. The man's very presence commanded a bit of Ichigo's attention no matter what was going on around him…he just loved to bait the man.

"Does something about me hint that I may be incompetent?"

His voice stirred through the crowd and a few eyebrows rose while others' eyes met in silence before directing their attention back to him. He made sure to make eye contact with every captain in the room before he continued even as he stood, the chair pushed back by his foot and screeching across the stone floor.

"Do I 'imbecile' painted across my forehead?"

He pressed his finger tips against the table, his hands arched as he leaned forward and locked gazes with the male Kuchiki whom, despite his outward calm, was brimming with anger inside shown easily enough by is flashing eyes. Ichigo continued softly; slower.

"Do I appear to be… naïve?"

There were a few more moments of silence before the older Kuchiki responded to his questions, his deep voice dead panning his words. "Of what do you speak, Kurosaki? Have we _offended _you in some way?"

The slight inflection of his voice would mean nothing if it were not Byakuya who had done it, and Ichigo knew that the man could care less if Ichigo were offended in any way for any reason. This made Ichigo's lips curl into that sarcastic little smirk that only he can pull off.

"Offended? Oh, no, _Captain Kuchiki. _I am not offended. I am merely confused." Ichigo settled back down in his seat and pulled it back up to the table where he took his time examining his cask before looking up over its empty rim to the silent man. "You see, _Captain," _he motioned to Yamada with a limp wrist and his voice continued on with an airy tint to it. "This here _soldier _of yours is making me a slight bit antsy."

He sat the cask back down and placed his right ankle on the top of his left knee, grabbing his shin with both hands as he canted his head to the side.

"I have to say I am a bit displeased that you could not find someone else to pose as your Commander and the mastermind before our little _crime._" He tilted his head to the opposite side with a pleasant little smile as those before him changed new, uneasy glances at each other. Kuchiki's cold glare never left his face. "I was just wondering if you could go fetch the _real _boss here like a good little doggy. If I am to do such a reckless thing as to kill a King, do I not deserve to meet the man paying for my _charitable _donation to the cause?"

There was more silence throughout the room and at first Ichigo believed that perhaps they would defy him to the end and then something caught his attention and it diverted his attention away from Kuchiki to settle his pleasant smile and unwavering gaze on the man currently _chuckling _in a corner.

Ichigo isn't surprised very often, but sure enough he found himself seeing a question mark pop up into his mind, though he showed none on his expression. How had he missed _that?_

The Captain (he was assuming, because who else would have the gall?) had long burly brown hair that was in a low ponytail swiped to hang over his left shoulder. His strong facial features were decorated by long scruff that Ichigo couldn't quite call a beard, and dark tanned skin that hinted he liked the sunshine. All of this was normal enough, but the pink flowery _thing_ draped over his black and white uniform (Ah yes, he was a Captain after all) was so bright that Ichigo actually gave a hard blink to make sure he was not imagining things.

The chuckler, noticing Ichigo's interest in him, brought his amusement slowly under control until only a few huffs escaped his lips and he tilted his chin in greeting as his grey eyes glittered. "Ah, pardon. Shunsui Kyoraku at your service." The man did not move away from the wall that he was leaning against, his expression lazily amused. Ichigo said nothing and continued to stare. Eventually the man smiled back and nudged the wall to stand up straight, his slow gait carrying him towards a door on the other side of the room.

"Don't be so tense, Captain Kuchiki. I'm sure the Commander won't mind. I'll go get him."

With that the man slid through the door and Ichigo was left with that quiet crowd who continued to stare. He simply reached for the jug of wine and poured himself more to wait.

…

The old man that stood before him is grizzled and sporting a beard so long that it could be used against him if anyone had balls enough to try it, with bushy white eyebrows and a hunched over form. His eyes were so squinted that his eye color could not be made out, and his misshapen bald head had a scar in the shape of an x.

He was exactly who Ichigo had thought he'd be.

"Commander Genryusai Yamamoto. What a pleasant…" Ichigo gave a purposeful pause, his smile growing a bit at the old man's lack of expression. "Surprise." Ichigo extended a hand towards the man and watched as the war veteran shifted his gnarled cane from one hand to the other in order to clasp Ichigo's own offered one.

"I had intended to meet you later, but the pleasure is all mine," the Commander lied, pulling his hand back even as Ichigo's smile continued to grow.

"Ah yes, well, I was so excited at the prospect of meeting you that I just couldn't wait. I am sure you understand." Ichigo nodded as he spoke and his eyes darted to Captain Shunsui who held that little smile and relaxed attitude. Beside him stood a new man who had appeared on the Commanders' heels with a creepy little smile spread over his fox-shaped face and silvery grey hair that had nothing to do with age. The man was young, and slender, and very _very _odd.

When the man became aware of the fact that Ichigo's eyes were now focused on him he smiled and offered a little playful wave, all five fingers spread far apart as he leaned to the side and planted the back of his free hand on his hip.

He was Ichimaru Gin, and Ichigo had never seen him before. In fact, Ichigo was starting to realize that he had underestimated what he thought was a flawless knowledge of the structure of the military. He had thought there were a certain number of Captains in all, and now he had found three more. Ichimaru, Shunsui, and another that he had not met due to 'extenuating circumstances' named Ukitake. Not that it mattered, per say. After he finished the unsavory job of assassinating the King, he would brush up on his facts and get it straight for further reference.

"I like 'em, Commander, Sir." Gin danced forward, balancing precariously on one foot beside Yamamoto as he leaned forward, clasping his hands behind his back and grinning wider. Ichigo didn't like it that he couldn't see the man's eyes. He couldn't tell what the man was really thinking. The Commander looked sidelong at Gin and took a deep breath, idly tapping the end of his staff against the ground in a broken rhythm.

"There is no doubt that he will succeed," was the only response to that before he bowed his head ever so slightly to Ichigo. "Fare well, and good luck." And with that the Commander was sweeping away and out the door once more. Ichigo did not begrudge him his quick leave. After all, it wouldn't be well for him if Ichigo was seen in his presence.

Suddenly Ichigo was aware that his personal space was being slowly invaded and he focused his attention on Gin who had started creeping closer step by step, tip toe style.

Ichigo felt his brow twitch and did his best to not let the irritated scowl reach his face. Instead he smiled back and mirrored the other man's position, leaning forward as his arms tucked behind his back. "I guess you're tolerable too."

Gin only smiled harder and inched closer, his lower lip catching between his teeth before he chuckled and stood up straight. Ichigo didn't. He merely rolled his eyes up to look at the leering man as he raised a brow in questioning.

"Yer gonna be a lotta fun, Ichi. I can tell."

…..

**Sorry that was kind of short, but I hope it was good none the less. The appearance of Gin. Dun, dun, dun! What fun, fun, fun. XD Rofl. Well anyways, I'm sorry about the spelling errors in the last chapter. I went back and read it this morning and was ashamed. But I guess I got the point across, even if there were some tense errors too. Ah well, I wish I could be perfect, but alas….sigh. Hehe. And Yamada is not the little shy guy from the anime, he is just a faceless soldier that was my own little creation cause I didn't want to put anyone else in that roll. Anyways, another question asked! No, sorry. This is not the Soul Society, and they are not souls. But. BUT. They are NOT on what we consider 'Earth.' This is NOT based ON EARTH. Ok. Sorry for the capitalization, I wasn't yelling at you dear. (You know who you are!) I was just making sure that the answer was seen! Alright. Love to all. **


	5. Of DS, OS, and CS

**Oh dear, I hadn't expected so many answers to my question so very fast. I am overwhelmed with appreciation for everyone's support. My mind has settled now that I am aware that most people so far believe the word was used correctly, and no one can imagine the relaxation that that provides … I am sorry to those who think I have made war with the reviewer instead of taking his opinion to heart.. And plenty of others' have made AN chapters and not been ridiculed. But I will refrain from doing so in the future, I am sorry I have offended. I really didn't mean to. The purpose of my previous post was to further better myself as a writer and ask if I had indeed been mistaken. **

**I will be the first to admit that I have made tense and spelling errors. I have done it in the past, and most definitely with this story. I understand. Everyone has their flaws, including me. I will take whatever council is thrown my way to heart. I believe in taking constructive criticism, really, I do. I didn't mean to offend, or be immature. I will take careful measures to ensure this does not happen again. Perhaps, even as one person has stated, find a Beta for my Bleach stories? **

**I am so very sorry for offending anyone. I am ashamed.**

**Again, sorry. But please, if you are still reading this, again: Enjoy! **

**(If you REALLY want a laugh, when the second part of this chapter starts further down, listen to the Mission Impossible theme song followed by the Pink Panther Theme song. I did while I was writing it, and laughed the ENTIRE time. XD)**

**The Dark Side That Is Me**

**Of Dress Rehearsals, Opening Scenes, And Collaborators**

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched. He could feel it. It wasn't just one jerky movement, oh no. It kept on twitching, and he knew from the pressure building behind his eyes that he would soon be _blessed _with a headache that would send his ears pounding in complaint.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing away the oncoming headache with all of his might. Of course this only quickened the damned thing and he clenched his teeth in order not to bare them in a silent snarl. Finally he was able to gain some semblance of control and only then did he open his eyes to level his gaze on the last person he had expected to be at his door when he had answered it that morning.

Silver grey hair swayed as the man rocked back and forth in his chair somewhat like a child, with ankles hooked around the legs of the chair he was propped upon and hands clutching the wooden surface between his thighs. Those crescent shaped closed eyes were barely open once more and Ichigo still couldn't see them through the mess of bangs that fell down to his cheekbones.

The creepy smile remained even as he hummed a happy little tune.

Ichigo cleared his throat and the humming stopped as a slender chin cocked a bit to the side, reminding Ichigo of a bird.

"Yes?" The word was dragged out and emphasized in painful proportions and it made Ichigo want to launch himself over the wooden table and beat the man's ever present grin right off of his face. He chose instead to restate his earlier argument.

"I don't work with other people. You can tell the head man that when you go back to him. I don't need your help; you'll only be in my way."

Brutally honest, that was Ichigo through and through. He had to be sometimes. He was one who liked to put everything out on the table to get it out of the way instead of dance around the subject and throw meaningless little hints like most people.

Gin rocked back in the chair and Ichigo found himself idly wondering how he was staying balanced on the old chair when he was moving around so much. Did the man not know patience? Could he not sit still?

Ichigo's brow twitched again.

"Mah, mah Ichi! Are ya saying that ya don't like me?" The man took on a mock frown that somehow seemed to still be lit with a humorous tilt and Ichigo narrowed his eyes a bit more. "Ya 'ave wounded m'eart to say such things!" The silver haired fox rocked forward again and his arms moved up to fold over each other in the table just in time to cradle his chin as it came falling down towards the wood. He stayed like that, laid over the table top, as (Ichigo assumed) he stared.

Ichigo himself ran both hands back through his hair with a long drawn out sigh, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling as he mentally counted to five before answering. "Nothing personal, _Captain, _I don't really like anyone." Which was more or less true, that lesson he had picked up because of _him._.._Kisuke. _

A chuckle brought his head down and there Gin was, giddy like a puppy with his entire body wiggling in mirth. "Oh, no, Ichi! Ya don' hafta call me Cap'n. After all, I ain't wearin' my Cap'n dress any way." And sure enough he wasn't. He had appeared as soon as the sun had breached the horizon in a pair of loose black cotton pants and a slightly too large woolen white shirt that was left un-tucked, a bit dingy, and very rumpled. "Just Gin, I insist!"

The urge to strangle doubled and Ichigo felt as his neck heated in annoyance.

What was _wrong _with this man? He studied him silently, taking in that creepy smile first before he ghosted over the rest of his face in a quick flick of his eyes. The silver haired male had begun to drum his fingers against the wood of the table and each little sound drove a spike of hostility into Ichigo's chest. So he stood and Gin followed suit, trailing after him to the door and out of the house, hands clasped behind his back once more.

"It's a shame I didn' get ta spend more time gettin' ta know yer sisters," the man grinned beside him; his light steps almost danced across the dirt. "They seem ta be very fond of ya."

Ichigo tried to ignore the comment. If there was anything that he hated about the man's unannounced visit it would be the fact that the creepy man had been able to lay eyes on Karin and Yuzu. Karin had seemed to pick up on his attitude and had stayed relatively silent while glaring and Yuzu, being Yuzu, had chattered away happily commenting on how excited she was to be meeting 'one of Ichi-nii's friends for the first time!'

He brushed a non-existent spot of dirt from his pant leg, attempting to drown out the still talking male beside him.

"Ya know, I'm excited 'bout gettin' ta work with ya, Ichi! Even if ya don' think ya need my 'elp." Chatter, chatter, chatter. Blah, blah, blah. Ichigo's fingers twitched before they curled into a ball.

"Ya never know! I might be more 'elp than ya think! Where are we headin' anyway, Ichi? I ain't gonna know what to do if ya keep all them ideas in yer own 'ead ya know."

Ichigo slowed to a stop and Gin danced along a few more steps before stopping and spinning around on one heel, his left leg out to the side before it snatched back and that foot planted next to the right.

"You're testing my patience. I said I don't need you, so you don't need to know anything." He kept his voice even and bland, opting for a calm façade instead of an angry one. Gin tilted his head to the side and seemed to consider him for a moment before smiling again and inching forward.

"But I know every inch of tha Castle," He paused to let that information sink in, and then stressed it with a continued, "_Everythin', _Ichi. With my eyes closed an' hands tied." He brought his hands up and wiggled his fingers, teeth flashing in mirth.

Ichigo began to reconsider. The only place he had never been too was the Castle…he didn't even know what the Main Hall looked like. He had never felt the desire to go sit and watch anything that happened there, and his Sisters were always the ones who went to make their yearly offerings. He didn't even have a drawing of the interior.

It could be useful to have someone who could tell him which turn would take him the fastest way to the King. He could feel himself giving in. He was not going to admit such a thing out loud, however, and so instead be began walking again and Gin fell into step beside him, resuming his earlier hum.

They stayed like that until they arrived at their destination, and Ichigo leaned sideways as he crossed his arms and gazed at the wall before him, caramel brown eyes taking in every inch of vegetation that covered it. It was one of the outer walls of the Castle, and it was going to be his hardest obstacle other than the breech of the Castle itself.

Gin was silent for only as long as he could be before he piped up cheerfully. "What's the matter Ichi? Yer starin' at that wall like it's gonna be a problem."

Ichigo reached up and scratched at his head, brows furrowed as he moved closer to the wall under the cover of the trees, tracing a vine with his fingertips without answering Gin. He had yet to decide how he was going to get over it without alerting the watchmen. They would be sharper than normal; they always were after big gatherings and feasts.

Gin's voice interrupted his thoughts but this time his words made Ichigo, for the first time in a very long time, gape in surprise at the other man.

"I told ya, didn' I, Ichi? I know _everythin' _'bout the castle."

Ichigo had never been so excited to see that creepy unreadable smile.

….

Ichigo was dressed appropriately.

Loose black pants were once again tied at the ankle and his shirt was as dark as the night itself, a black sash tied about his waist to hold the twin daggers he always carried on jobs exactly where they needed to be. His bright yellow hair was held concealed beneath a black cotton head warmer, keeping that particular attribute hidden, while a long slender piece of fabric wrapped around his throat and over the lower portion of his face. His sleeves were unrolled.

Beside him perched Gin, though even he would not have been able to tell it was him beneath all those layers of black fabric. Even with his hair pulled back under concealment as well, Ichigo still could not make out the color of his eyes and he wondered how the man functioned with his eyes mostly closed all the time.

That was a thought to contemplate another day. He needed to focus. _Focus, focus. _He chanted the words in his mind. He didn't know why his mind was scattered tonight, and a scattered brain was dangerous. The party had been raging within the castle for a while now, a birthday celebration that would last until the sun peaked the sky the following day, but the King would retire when the moon began fall.

They had to hurry. It was hanging in the sky like an ominous eye, peering down at them and judging them. Ichigo shook his head and his body reacted immediately when a hand tapped at his shoulder and he launched himself off of the branch they had been occupying, one hand curling around strong vines before he scrabbled up the rest of the wall, entire body bending as he used his momentum to flip up onto the walkway. He didn't hesitate before his hand met the other side of the wall and he vaulted over….falling straight down onto a wagon of straw bedding that was waiting to be placed in the Stables the following morning.

Ichigo was only mildly surprised, and the surprise itself came from the fact that Gin had been right. He had said that every fifth day of the week the wagon was left here for the sixth day of the week, when the horses were given fresh bedding to keep their hooves from rotting. And at this time, regardless of the night, the guards were changing shifts and so they were preoccupied.

He hopped down off of the straw and hunkered beside the cart, watching their surroundings as Gin dropped down as well, hopping down beside him quiet as a mouse. Then Gin was off like a light, his steps quick and sure and Ichigo followed because Gin knew where he was going. He didn't like putting so much of his plan into the fox's hands, but he had had no real choice. He wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible.

Gin scrambled up a few stone steps that hugged the wall and then jumped agile as a cat to one of the many windows that laid facing the inner courtyard. Ichigo lengthened his stride, bypassed the steps and jumped to the side, using the wall to propel himself upwards. His hands hooked the ledge of the window and he heaved himself up into it, landing inside with a quick glance around. There was no one.

Ichigo felt uneasiness creeping into his body but he ignored it. Everything was going to plan. Gin had said he knew the guard routes, and this hallway was usually left unpatrolled for simple fact that it overlooked the courtyard, and nobody would bother checking it more than once or twice a night.

_Security is lacking, _Ichigo thought as they moved along the far wall, away from the windows. _Perhaps they will fix that for the next King. _Ichigo flashed a small smile to the darkness as Gin seemed to melt into a portion of the wall that was bathed in shadows and soon Ichigo was following, swiping aside the tapestry so he could eyeball the column engraved from the wall. It was perfect for climbing, with little grooves cut in fanciful design all the way up its length. Ichigo shook his head and looked up to see that Gin had already finished scaling it and was crouched froglike on the beams crisscrossing the ceiling. Ichigo flashed him that smarmy smile and hooked his hands and feet, scurrying up the column in the time it took for two heartbeats to thud in his chest.

He drew up beside Gin breathing normally, eyes darting here and there. They paused for a reason. Sure enough a servant girl dashed down the hall, soon chased by a wayward guard who had most of his clothing already shucked. He snatched the giggling girl up and they began to kiss passionately and Ichigo felt his cheeks heat. He looked away.

Soon the giggling faded away as the duty neglecting guard and his lover disappeared and Ichigo swallowed dryly as he looked back to Gin. He couldn't see the man's expression but he could swear he felt amusement trickling from every pore.

"Didn' I tell ya, Ichi?" Gin's voice rasped out in a whisper, "I know _everythin'._"

And finally Ichigo agreed with the creepy bastard.

They moved through the halls like that, crawling like roaches from one support to the next, stopping whenever Gin held up a hand. At one of those times, Ichigo lost his patience. This was taking too long.

"Are we close?" He muttered the words in a hushed whisper, refusing the urge to tug on his lip with his teeth. "Yes," Gin replied, so quietly that Ichigo barely heard him. Ichigo nodded even though he knew there was a chance that Gin would not see it. His breath was hot against the fabric that rested over his lips.

The stayed silent and still like that until Gin dropped down to the floor from way up high and landed as if he jumped from high places all of the time. Ichigo looked down at him disdainfully. The man motioned for him to hurry up and jump and Ichigo had half the mind to try and fall on top of his head.

Repressing the childish urge, he slid his lower portion down off of the beam until he hung straight armed and then let go, allowing his knees to give when he landed so as to not hurt them. His right palm pressed against the stone ground and he blinked up at Gin who was grinning as he leaned over him. Or, Ichigo guessed he was grinning, because the man was always grinning.

He stood straight and they hugged the walls again. Ichigo was busy checking behind them when he ran right into the other man's back and they both stumbled though they made no other noise. The shoulder that he had grabbed to steady himself was shaking, signaling to him that Gin was laughing. He stepped back with a scowl as Gin pointed with his thumb to the right and Ichigo became extremely aware of exactly where they were.

Calling it a door was drawing a bit short, if Ichigo was honest with himself. It looked more like doors that might lead to Heaven. They stood as tall as the ceiling in Arched fashion, the dark wood rich and glossy and engraved with designs. Ichigo couldn't help it, he had a taste for expensive things and so he moved closer, examining the scene depicted there.

It started at the bottom, with lush land that was bursting with crops and dark green grass, painted straight onto the engraved wood. From that beautiful land, glowing from the embers of some unseen fire below, came skeletons whose skulls were grinning in morbid humor. They clambered over each other to get free from the ground, bony fingers digging into the dirt and leaving long raking gouges.

Their eyeless sockets were turned upwards where little wisps of souls careened wildly in the red sky. The castle in the background was the castle they stood in, and it's windows were spewing out angry tongues of fire that licked up to engulf the roof. Upon the clouds in the sky knelt figures swathed in black, looking down upon the horror with blank faces and emotionless eyes.

Ichigo shivered and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He rubbed his arm through the sleeve of his shirt and blinked hard, wishing that he hadn't of burned the image into his mind. He would surely see it every time he closed his eyes from then on.

A pale hand reached past him and palmed the door open with the smallest of creaks that sent Ichigo's eyes wandering the hall again. How long had he been staring like that? How long did they have? Gin moved past him and led the way into the King's bedchamber, and again Ichigo stopped short with his breath in his throat.

The room positively dripped in luxury. Ichigo was not one easily cowed by such things. He had seen many, many rich possessions and had handled his fair share here and there. But this was something completely different, on a totally different scale than he had ever experienced.

The large four poster bed drew his eye first because it was the first thing one sees when entering. It was pushed back against the wall, the headboard arched tall, with coverlets the color of red wine trimmed in fine gold. Thick, heavy looking drapes were tied open to each poster, revealing red, gold, and dark brown pillows piled upon the mattress in no apparent order. Ichigo's eyes moved. There, beside the bed, was a side table made of the same red-brown wood and just as polished as the door had been.

The floor was not stone, it was wood. Ichigo had half a mind to take off his soft soled shoes and feel it on his bare toes but he refrained, choosing instead to take a few more steps into the room after closing the door firmly behind him. There was a carpet that rested under foot, hiding away some of the wood, a circular decoration that held deep hues of yellow and brown. Ichigo was starting to see a pattern. It was odd, but those were the main colors. Red, brown, gold. Red, brown, gold. All in different variations but all…red, brown, and gold.

He shook his head to try and snap himself out of his stupor and ignored the rest of the room. He had to focus. Why it was so hard to focus inside this damnable castle? Gin was off to the side watching him. It was Ichigo's turn. Gin had gotten him where he needed to be, Ichigo had to do the rest.

He started with the large jug of wine that, according to Gin, was always sitting on the bedside table for when the King finally took to the sheets. "'e likes ta end tha day with a little night cap, ya see." Gin had said earlier as they had planned. _Right again, _Ichigo thought to himself as he pulled a small pouch from the inside of his sash, right next to the hilt of one of his knives.

He loosened the draw string and tipped it over the jug, watching as the grey particles emptied themselves into the wine and immediately dissolved without a trace. It wouldn't even change the taste of the wine. But this was not how Ichigo intended to kill the King. He had more finesse than that. This was to ensure two things. If the wine was checked, the King would feel safe to know that the attempt had failed. If he drank it, it would be all the better and he could be assured that one way or another the King would definitely die.

Either way, it was win-win for him. He tucked the pouch back into his sash and begun to hunt around the room like a bloodhound, searching every little nook and cranny. He finally found what he was looking for. There, behind the wardrobe, was a hidden door. He could slip into the King's own secret passageway and wait for him to fall to sleep before he would go out to slit his throat.

He looked over to Gin and nodded to him and Gin was gone again, slipping out through the door to hide until Ichigo emerged as well. He would take him straight back out the way they had come and they would disappear into the night before the King's body even begun to cool.

He squeezed in between the wall and the wardrobe and nudged the door open just enough to allow him to step into the tunnel. He didn't bother to close the door. He needed to hear when the King came in, and when he dismissed the two guards that accompanied him everywhere. And he needed to hear the snores that would signal his move.

All he had to do was sit and wait. The plan was going smooth as water.

He ignored that strange little niggling of doubt that had tried to bother him earlier on in the day, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

_Wait, _his mind whispered, _be still. _

Ichigo sighed out the air he had taken in, and smiled at the back of the wardrobe.

….

**HYYAA! HYA, HYYYYYAAAAAAAA! WHHHHAAAAAAAAAAaaaaAAA! –Does a crazy, half assed and completely clumsy kung-fu routine that I completely just made up in my head before strutting around like James Bond with hands poised in the form of a gun.- Dun, dun, dun…..**

**Well! I hope you like Ichi's and Gin's infiltration into the castle. It's not as detailed as I would have liked. I'm not a spy. I have no idea how they would do it. And I know that everyone's probably going, 'Whaaaa? Don't they know what guarding is?" But I promise, you will see. Although by now, some of you might have guessed it. Don't give it away if you have! Haha. **

**I really hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I had fun writing it, and I hope you have had fun reading it! I have sent a message to a few Beta readers. Hopefully I will get a response from one of them soon. **


	6. Upon The Rostrum

**Dark Side That Is Me**

**Upon The Rostrum**

The large gathering of people that lined the stone courtyard jostled each other in a buzz of excitement and confusion. It had been many, many years since such a public gathering and it was all they could do to keep their imaginations in check.

Was he proclaiming more freedom? Was he announcing some kind of ball or festival? Was he going to announce some important and dangerous war declaration that would send them into battle with a different country? It was nearly too much for them to bear, their breathing coming heavily and faces flushed with a myriad of emotions that teetered between happiness and terror.

There were a few faces scattered within the crowd that were quietly humming in pleasure. For it was the morning after the King's grand celebration and they knew what the announcement would be. They understood why the assassination of a King would be kept quiet for a night. They needed to devise a plan, a story to cover up their failure at protecting the King. And they would need to weigh their options for a new King. But the ones smiling to themselves in the crowd knew that there was only one other choice for Kingship and so they knew that whoever would step out on the balcony overhanging the courtyard would be who they wanted it to be.

Because their faith and money had been placed in the orange haired demon that never failed, that had meticulously planned his moves. And although they regretted the fact that he was most likely dead, since he had not returned to his little home or hideout afterwards, they counted his sacrifice as heroism and promised that once everything was settled they would write ballads that bespoke of one who killed a king.

Although the throng of bodies produced a huge volume of noise that echoed and steadily grew even louder, there was an instant hush as something on the banister caught their eye. It was something odd, something that set them back in their thought process, and for a few minutes even the smiling faces didn't react to the sight that all beheld.

The King stood there, in all his regal glory. Glossy locks of deep chocolate brown were pushed back, lightly oiled to keep it in place and with a thick lock drooping down to rest between his eyebrows in a way that only he could pull off. Sharp angled face held the smallest of smirks, a daring mock that sent the crowd tittering in added confusion.

His eyes scanned the flooded courtyard in regal regard, choosing to look down the length of his nose instead of tilting his head. A white satin robe embroidered with golden designs was draped over his body, high collar sticking straight up before folding neatly back over itself. A blue dress robe laid beneath that, hemmed in thick gold and red silk, the pattern hidden by distance to those looking on. The Holy Sword, strapped to his hip by a dark blue sash, winked its sapphire jeweled hilt in the sunlight, the gold running up the whole of the scabbard nearly glowing in amusement.

His appearance, while slightly overdressed, was not completely uncommon. After all, King Aizen was a man of pride and vanity and loved to be surrounded by beautiful things; that alone was common sense. No, the surprise was what stood at his right side catching attention in numerous ways.

Lips that were smiling secret smiles now stood apart, jaws dropping as those treacherous planners beheld the man as if he were a ghost. A long body made up of legs and arms and healthy sinew that rippled as he shifted from foot to foot; not a nervous gesture but an irritated one barely caught and covered by a blinding white smile that arched over full lips that usually held a cocky smirk. Skin kissed lightly by the sun glowed a healthy pink, as if just scrubbed in a bath.

Around his slender neck a red velvet cape was clasped with a brooch of gold, braided threads of red and blue and white looping multiple times across his chest. The hood on the cape was pulled back but the white fur lining could still be seen as the wind shifted the heavy looking garment. Chest was plated in what looked like silver armor, etched with ancient designs that only the King could understand, and fitting his chest and ribs as if made for him. Blue sleeves reached halfway down his biceps, tied off and leading to a strange set of arm protection that started just above his elbows to extend to his wrists, held down snug by slits of fabric that looped between his fingers.

His lower half was trussed up easily as gussy, with pleated light blue fabric brushing over his strong thighs much like a skirt and yet not, more like shorts with a skirt-like appearance… a 'squart.' Then the small flash of flesh revealed gave way to more strange looking armor, not of metal origin either, strapped to his legs all the way down to his ankles. His feet were encased is soft, supple leather bathed in blue.

He was truly a sight to behold. The color of his orange gold hair matched the glinting of gold that came from shoulder plates, forearm plates, and knee guards. Coupled by the ever intriguing multiple shades of blues and reds, splashes of burgundy interrupted only by plum purples and hare whites, he was truly the most beautiful creature that the kingdom had seen in a very long time.

The Kings voice carried out even though it seemed as if he didn't raise it and it made the crowd take a collective breath since they had not been aware that they had been holding it since the duo's appearance.

"There will be a festival, in two weeks' time! It is to officially mark a new and important Tournament that will welcome Knights from foreign lands to participate in! It will not discriminate against those without Royal or Noble Blood," at this the King's voice dipped in an amused fashion as if challenging those who lacked in such blood to step forth. "So all who think themselves fancy with a blade may enter, though the style of weapon is not limited to the sword and each competitor may use whatever means necessary to win, even if it results in death."

He paused to let his words sink into the crowd and just as he suspected half of the people below him began to murmur excitedly while others took on more nervous facades, pretending that the idea frightened them. But he knew better because he had been ruling these people for very long time.

His gaze slid side-ways to the young man standing at his side and he dipped his chin ever so slightly with that sly little upturn of the corner of his lips, making him look like a very hungry predator.

"The man you see here is to be my Champion in this tournament. Any and all who enter should heed my warning," the King looked out over the crowd again, too far away to make out faces and yet sharp enough to point out a few areas in the crowd where motion had ceased altogether. "This man is very dangerous. Just last night he attempted to slay a King."

A collective gasp was his answer and he wanted to smile but he didn't because he himself was amused at the fact that he had gained a foothold on those who thought themselves worthy to hire an assassin to take his head. In his lazy drawl, he continued.

"Obviously I am still alive. This does not affirm to failure. I would be cruel to those entering if I were not honest. I nearly parished last night on his blade, and there was no man that was able to stop him before I did so myself. In that light," the King clapped his hands loudly in front of his chest, still scanning the crowd.

"Do enjoy your preparations. I look forward to a grand Tournament indeed."

As they turned their backs the mob rose their voices in a roar of approval and excitement, cheering in abandon. Ichigo wanted to spit on them. Actually, he would like nothing better than to hurled himself over the ledge of the balcony and cut into them mercilessly. It would satisfy that little itch starting at the tips of his fingers. Damn the man.

He continued to follow the King, one step behind and to the right even though his eyes bore holes into the back of the man's head. Eventually they entered a large sitting room and the brown haired older man found his way to a lounge chair, lowering himself into it with a grace that Ichigo couldn't help but admire.

"You did well, Ichigo."

He narrowed his eyes. Was Aizen really complimenting him for merely standing there? His thoughts were interrupted before he even had the chance to form the proper retort.

"Everyone fears you now, and yet they will be unable to resist the urge to challenge you in the Tournament simply for the fact that they think you almost succeeded in killing a King."

A servant girl bustled into the room and Ichigo watched her like a hawk as she moved towards Aizen, bowing before him as she offered him a cup of tea. He gave that small little smile to Ichigo as he took it from her and she made her way to Ichigo to do the same.

At first she kept her eyes averted, her short pale colored hair hiding her facial expression from him. When he took it and mumbled a soft thank you she looked up at him with a smile that could light a thousand nights and with a brief bow to them both she skittered away.

Ichigo felt sick, and Aizen continued.

"Have you wondered why I haven't asked for the names of the ones who hired you?" The tone was mild and it jerked Ichigo from his thoughts on the little servant girl who wore fine clothes and bowed to them both. He blinked and locked a bland stare on the King.

"The thought hadn't really crossed my mind, no."

Silence stretcheed between them and it was broken only by the small sips of tea. Ichigo refused to drink his own.

"It's because I know, with time, that they will become angered by your failure. They will call it Betrayal. They will seek retribution. And I believe that with this tournament, they will take their chance no matter how rushed it is. Because that is the type of people they are, Ichigo. Simple minded and weak."

Ichigo thinned his lips and felt his eyes narrow but said nothing to counteract the words that rattled around noisily in his mind.

Failure.

Betrayal.

Retribution.

Never before had he ever been on the receiving end of those things.

Everything had a price.

…

**Please Review!**

**I know some of you might be wondering what happened. Don't worry! It will all be revealed soon. I wouldn't just leave that out. I promise!**

**Review. And much love.**

**By the way, for future reference if these terms are used in the story, this is who I am talking about. In Order of their rank as I have them.)...(Though do be careful. Though the King's Knight is at the top, that does not mean he necessarily has the power to command the others. Well, not yet. Har har.)**

**Ichigo: The King's Knight**

**Gin: The King's Ears (I had to put this one up to. At least it explains **_**part **_**of what happened.)**

**Tosen: The King's Eyes**

**Ulquiorra: The King's Shadow**

**Starrk: The King's Hound**

**Grimm: The King's Hand**


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